


chased our shadows on the ground

by shinealightonme



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 05:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15453891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: Adam had been afraid when he moved out of state that it was going to be hard to get Ronan to call him.It turns out that it's harder to get Ronan off of the phone.





	chased our shadows on the ground

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pynch Week prompt "restraint". In a metaphorical sort of way, okay.

Adam had been afraid when he moved out of state that it was going to be hard to get Ronan to call him.

It turns out that it's harder to get Ronan off of the phone. Adam wouldn't think that he has that much to say; he can't come up with an hour's worth of conversation every day for his roommate or his classmates or his coworkers. But every night for the last week, he'll be on the phone and think he's out of things to say and then he'll think of one more thing, or Ronan will, or they'll sit in silence while Adam does his reading and Ronan roams around the Barns. Last night, his roommate had been out all night, "don't wait up" and an obnoxious eyebrow waggle, and Adam had fallen asleep still listening to Ronan's breathing on speaker phone.

So he's used to Ronan coming up with non sequiturs to keep him on the phone -- he hasn't figured out how to tell him that he doesn't need to.

But he's not expecting _this_ :

"We could have phone sex."

"Ronan," Adam says; a warning.

Ronan ignores it. "What are you wearing?"

"Are you kidding?"

"No. Tell me what you're wearing."

"Jeans," Adam says. "Did you really think this was going to be exciting?"

"And?" Ronan prompts him.

"And what?"

"Are you just sitting around topless? Because that's exciting."

Adam sighs. He isn't going to lie, and even just admitting that he _wants_ to lie is like admitting that this is a big deal. "I'm wearing a shirt I stole from your closet."

There's a pause, and when Ronan does speak, he's dropped the mockery. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah."

"Which one?"

"It's just a black t-shirt, you have a dozen of them." He shifts, tucks his leg up under him on the bed and then unfolds again, uncomfortable. "I didn't think you'd miss one."

"I didn't know you wanted one."

Adam swallows. The neckline on the shirt suddenly feels like it's gotten tighter, tight enough to strangle him. "It smells like you."

"Fuck," Ronan swears. "I want to touch you."

_If you were here --_

Those aren't words he can say.

"Okay," he says instead. "So do it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, just," _tell me what you would do_ , "tell me what you're going to do, before you do it."

Ronan inhales. "I'm going to lock your door."

Adam scrambles off the bed and darts over to the door, ignoring the way his fingers slip on the knob. He's always clumsy with his left hand.

"It's locked."

"Where are you right now?"

"Leaning against the door."

"Okay -- I'm going to unbutton your jeans."

Adam fumbles again, wishing he could switch his phone to his off hand. "It took you a few tries," he tells Ronan.

"I got distracted with how you look."

 _You can't see me --_ "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ronan says. "You always blush when I'm undressing you."

His face burns. "I figured you'd be used to that by now."

"It still fucks me up."

God, he can't do this. He's going to say something that ruins everything. "Ronan -- "

"I unzip your fly."

"Oh -- _oh_ ," and his fingers brush over his cock when he does. "Okay."

"You're wearing underwear?

"Why wouldn't I be wearing underwear under my jeans?"

"If you knew I was going to touch you."

"I didn't know." _How could I know?_ "You caught me by surprise."

"Yeah? What were you doing before I found you?"

"Reading."

"Boring."

"I don't know what you expect me to do alone in my dorm that's so interesting."

"You're not alone anymore."

 _I am, I am, you're not --_ "No. I'm not alone."

"Fuck, you look so amazing. I want to kiss you," and that's a mistake. He can't -- "I bite your lip."

Oh, that he can do. He teases his bottom lip between his teeth, bites down hard. Rolls it back and forth and bites down again, harder, hard enough that he grunts at the pain.

"I'm going to put my hand on your waist. Just -- " His voice shakes, and he stops.

It should be reassuring, that Ronan is as affected by what they're doing as Adam is. Instead it feels like Ronan's letting go of the steering wheel at a hundred miles an hour.

" -- I'm going to stick my thumb under the waistband. Of your briefs."

Adam places his hand on his waist, slides one single digit inside of his pants. "Just your thumb?" he asks, and he knows that he comes across too hopeful, because Ronan laughs at him.

"Yeah," he says. "Just the thumb."

_We'd see how long that resolve lasted if you were --_

"God, you're such an asshole."

"Is that what you think?" Ronan asks, too innocent.

"It's not a matter of opinion. It's a proven fact."

"So you don't want me to scratch my thumbnail over your hip bone -- "

Adam _whines_.

"Oh, you _do_ want that," Ronan says, slow and dripping sex. "But I thought I was an asshole?"

Adam pants into the receiver. His thumbnail is resting lightly against his skin, but he can't dig it in yet; Ronan said that he _could_ scratch, not that he _did_.

"Ronan," he pleads.

"Say you want me."

_I want you for real, I hate this, it's been a week and I'm already sick to death of phone calls and make-pretend --_

"I want you to scratch me," Adam says; a compromise.

Ronan _tch_ s. "Sorry, Parrish, not good enough. Just for that I'm going to snap the band of your underwear -- "

Adam stands up a little straighter against the door. "Ronan -- " and this time it's not a plea, or not in a sexy way.

"If you complain, I'm going to do it again."

He _will_ , too, damn him. Adam grimaces, pulls his briefs out away from his hip with his thumb and lets go.

The worst fucking part isn't that it snaps back against his skin; the worst part is that he gasps and feels his cock twitch when it does.

It's small consolation that he hears Ronan groan at the sound he makes just then. " _Fuck._ Take it off, I want you naked."

Adam's only too happy to push his pants and underwear down. "Shirt?"

"No," Ronan says. "I'm looking at you and the only thing you're wearing is my clothing."

He kicks his pants off; he doesn't want them coiled around his ankles distracting him. "Yes."

Ronan is silent for a minute. Picturing Adam? Weighing his options? Or having second thoughts about the whole thing?

"I push my hand up under the shirt," he says, no sign of any doubt. "Over your stomach."

Adam slides his hand up from his waist. It shouldn't mean anything, it shouldn't _work_. You can't ever touch yourself the way someone else touches you, unknowing and receptive, but tell that to his skin because he's shivering all the same. It feels good, too good, good enough that he pushes his hand a little further, up past his rib cage -- 

"I said your stomach, Parrish." How the hell does he _know?_

Adam pulls his hand back, but stages a token protest at the command.

Given it comes out as "nnngh," he's not sure it's convincing.

"Better," Ronan says.

Adam clamps down on the sound that tries to escape him at that. He thinks better of it, too late. The moment's gone, and all that he can force out and into the phone is, "oh."

Ronan continues, undeterred. "You know, I think I'll run my hand down, instead."

Adam perks up. "Yeah?"

"Yup," and he knows from that tone that this isn't going to be any good. Ronan sounding that exact kind of happy is _never_ any good, except when it's amazing. "Down the your thigh -- the outside of your thigh."

Adam moves his hand accordingly, but he makes a disgruntled noise at the same time.

"Don't you like that?" Ronan asks. He still sounds too clever, and no answer Adam would give would be right. "What if I dug my nails in and scratched back up your whole leg?"

"Oh," Adam says. More the fool him, for thinking Ronan had forgotten a promise. "Yeah -- oh."

"Yeah? Should I do that?"

Adam rolls his shoulders back to press as flat up against the door as they can. It doesn't relieve the pressure on him, at all. "You know you should."

"Smartass," Ronan murmurs, which is _entirely_ unfair, but before Adam can protest that he says, "I dig my nails in" and Adam is responding to that before he can think.

Ronan has him drag his hand all up and down his body, everywhere except where he needs it most, and always at a snail's pace. He moves up Adam, skirts around his nipples, traces his breast bone, teases the very base of his throat where it isn't sensitive enough, and Adam follows every instruction without hesitation. He doesn't even know, when he strokes his collarbone and moans " _Ro_ nan," whether he's objecting or signing on for more.

"God, you're so loud," Ronan says, too fond. "I have to kiss you again."

Adam bites his lip again and tilts his head back. He groans, muffled, because Ronan's mouth is on his, he can't speak.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful right now. I'm going to run my thumb over your nipple, just the thumb, slow little circles."

Adam's hand moves. It's starting to feel like maybe it isn't his hand. He can feel it on his skin but he doesn't feel his body against the hand, and that sends a moment of panic through him, his hands moving without him, except the panic feeds into lust in a way he doesn't understand and isn't sure he likes.

He shuts his eyes and thinks about Ronan standing in front of him, hard enough that he can't think of anything else.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes." The unthinking, absolute truth.

"You want more. You always want more."

"Yes, _yes_ \-- "

"I kiss your neck," Ronan says, and Adam reaches up and presses two fingers against his neck. It doesn't feel right.

"I need more," he says. _I need too much, all of this is wrong --_ "I need -- you to bite my neck, a little -- "

"Fuck yes, just -- I bite you, all down your neck."

Adam pinches a line down his skin, just short of painful, panting loudly into the receiver.

"You're hard."

It's not a question. Adam answers it anyway. "Yes."

"I push you onto the bed."

Adam breathes out, not quite a sigh. "All my books are on it."

"I knock them onto the ground."

Adam does it, even as he winces at his chemistry text landing on one corner with an expensive thud.

He has to make a judgment call at that point. He breaks just enough to do one thing that Ronan isn't going to tell him to do, that Ronan _can't_ tell him to do, not without admitting _you're not here, I'm not there, none of this is real --_

Adam switches the phone to speaker and puts it down by the pillow. "I'm lying down," and he hopes that Ronan doesn't notice the difference in his voice.

"I pull you up onto your hands and knees."

Adam scrambles into position, just in time. Ronan isn't playing the waiting game now. He has Adam run a hand up the back of his leg and toy with his hole.

How flexible does he think Adam is? _This would be better if --_

"I push my finger inside you."

Adam immediately slides one finger inside of his hole, just possible from this angle. "Oh, Christ."

"I'm careful," Ronan says, heated, and Adam doesn't tell him that he's already playing along. "I'm so fucking careful, okay? Just the tip, just slowly."

Ronan has him do that a dozen more times, pull out, rub against the rim, dip back inside. He never makes him use more than the tip -- because he knows that Adam can't get any deeper from this angle? Or because he can see Adam, even if he's not here, because he knows Adam inside and out.

Adam tries to swear. The sound he makes fails to contain words of any kind.

"Fuck, Adam, I want to get you off so bad."

"Touch me," Adam says. "God, just _touch me_ \-- " _just be here --_

"I wrap my hand around your cock." Finally, _finally,_ and Adam's breath is coming faster now, his moans getting shorter and higher pitched every second. "I'm stroking you, you're pushing into my hand." Adam whines. "Fuck, fuck, you feel so good. You're moving with me, I'm holding you, do you feel me holding you?"

"Yes -- yes -- " For a second he _does_ feel it, an arm around his waist, breath hot against the back of his neck, the animal prickle of another living presence behind him -- " _Ronan_."

Words tumble out of Ronan, picking up speed just like his hand is. "I squeeze, I squeeze and I stroke you and you come all over the sheets -- "

"Oh." Adam feels his mouth make the shape of the word, but he can't even tell if he's making a sound, too distracted, except he _has_ to make a sound, has to be heard, _if he doesn't hear it --_ "Oh, oh, _oh_ ," and the hand tightens around him and strokes him one last time before he comes, all over the sheets

He shakes his head, which does nothing for the buzzing in his ears. "What the hell," words for the sake of noise.

Ronan grunts. Adam knows that sound; it's _not yet_ , it's Ronan holding back, it's Ronan stopping himself because he wants to take care of Adam first, except he did that already.

The thought that they aren't on the same page clears up the fog in Adam's head a lot faster than shaking it had.

He licks his lips, forces a casual tone.

"What are you waiting for?" He looks down between his arms, runs his fingers through the mess on the bed. "I'm on my knees, I'm loose, I'm ready."

"Adam -- "

It would be a lot simpler if he could fuck himself from this angle. Something to figure out later. "You run your hand through my come and over my thighs, until they're slick."

Ronan breathes a few times in that harsh way he has when he's worked up, long strained pulls of oxygen like his lungs are mad at the air. "I push your knees together."

"Yes."

"I rub my cock against the back of your thighs."

Adam's hand is a very poor approximation, but he _knows_ what that feels like. He knows -- "You're trembling."

"I want you," Ronan says, quiet, like that of everything he's said tonight might be indecent.

_Then why aren't you --_

"Okay." Adam never is going to be any good at romantic declarations. "So take me."

Ronan exhales, all at once. "I push my cock between your thighs."

Adam rocks forward. His hand slides down off his thighs, and he rests on his elbows with his face pressed up against the pillow.

"I can feel your cock next to mine," Ronan says, "shit, you're getting hard again." Well, he is _now_ , and he groans, turns his face so that the sound won't be muffled by his bedding.

Ronan doesn't talk much after that, nothing coherent, scattered four-letter words -- _shit, fuck, damn, need, Adam._ Adam presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, not trusting anything he'd say, not while Ronan is still playing this godawful game. He rubs himself up against the mattress instead, wincing and groaning and hoping he doesn't sound like he's in pain, but he's too damn sensitive for this right now. He tunes that out as _irrelevant_ , focuses on the sounds that Ronan is making, right in his ear, until he could swear that he feels a weight like a body over him, holding him down.

"Adam -- "

"Do it," he says, to both of them.

"I -- " Ronan doesn't say it. He doesn't need to. They gasp together. Adam grabs the sheets hard in his fist, bucks against the bed and comes for a second time.

He lies on his stomach after, listening to Ronan's heavy breathing until it evens out. When he opens his eyes he half-expects to see him lying beside him.

The bed is empty.

_If I hadn't opened my eyes --_

"And you didn't think that was going to be exciting."

Adam sits up and looks at the mess. "Dammit, I just washed my sheets this morning."

Ronan laughs.

Adam shuts his eyes. The sound doesn't touch him, at all.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fic you can [reblog it on tumblr](http://toast-the-unknowing.tumblr.com/post/176340454550/chased-our-shadows-on-the-ground-shinealightonme).


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